Lols in Lordran
by ASouffleToServeTwo
Summary: Rated Teen for swearing, ganking and the Legend. A new comedy series based in the fundamentally-unfunny, controller-breaking world of Dark Souls. Whether it be interviews with famous NPCs, bosses or online scrubs, this series has it all! Warning: Contains Very Bad Humour
1. Interview with a Ganker

**Hiya everyone! I've been wanting to vent my comedic urges for some time, and this is the means by which I plan to do so. I don't know whether anyone is going to find this funny, so it might not continue very far. Atm, its just an experiment. I hope you all enjoy! Reviews, whether they consist of hate or not, are appreciated! Praise the Sun!** **\o/**

Exclusive tonight! Interview with a Darkroot ganker! Only on Lordran TV!

The man straightened in his seat, feeling unsurprisingly uncomfortable as his name blazed across millions of TV screens worldwide. A wave of nausea threatened to tide him over as he imagined the sound of thousands of in-game keyboards clattering in unison, and the rythmic thuds of countless hate mails landing in his inbox. He closed his eyes, as if to bar the darkness that clouded them from public view, but then he remembered the wooden mask that concealed him, and he took a calming breath, and tried to settle down.

"Good evening to everyone in our studio audience!" Shiva of the East called enthusiastically, flashing the nearby camera a knowing smile. "And welcome to Inquisition Time! Today, we will be toasting a quote-on-quote "ganker", who has agreed to take a break from his busy schedule in Darkroot Forest to come and talk to us today. He tells us he hopes he will shed his profession in a better light for us! What do you think?"

This led to a unanimous boo from the various audience members. Artorias the Abysswalker stood up from his seat and yelled "Filthy scum!", before throwing an empty Estus flask towards the stage. It narrowly missed the gankers' head, clattering off to the side and disappearing from view.

When the noise had died down, Shiva cleared his throat, and brought the proceedings to a start. "So, Mr. 720NoScopeOwnYourAssMMII, would you mind telling us a little about yourself?"

The man looked around nervously as every eye in the building bore into him. "Uh, I'm a Level 120 Thief class. I started with the Master Key..."

"As you do," Shiva interrupted.

"When I was Level 50, I went to the Catacombs and joined the Gravelord Servants."

A disparaging groan echoed around the room. Several people Looked Skyward.

"Settle down!" Shiva cried. "You'll all get your chance, I promise! Now, when did you first become aware of the Forest?"

"I was going to join the Forest Hunters, when-"

"As you do."

"When I was invaded by a blue phantom. I'd forgotten I was human."

"Rookie mistake," the Undead Merchant whispered to the hollow sitting next to him, whose mouth was open absently and drooling.

"And what happenned?" Shiva enquired.

"Well, I tried to run-"

"You'll never be able to run far enough..."

"I ended up falling into a pit, surrounded by enormous, bloodthirsty cats. Then another invader jumped in. It was all geting a little out of hand."

"And what did you do?" Shiva said calmly, before standing up abruptly and looming over the ganker. "Did you disconnect, you pussy fagit?"

The ganker shook his head profusely. "No, I swear!"

"I think you're a liar. What do you folks think?"

The crowd roared their agreement. A Berenike knight began a mexican wave that travelled all the way down his row.

"No, I didn't!" the ganker yelled. "The first invader TWOP'd me, while the second continously stole humanity from me."

Almost instantly, the crowd were silent. Tranquil Walk of Peace was no joke. A few of them even shed tears as they remembered their own despair at seeing the soul-crushing miracle cast. Even Shiva was unusually quiet.

"Then what happenned?" he asked.

"When they got bored, they pushed me down the ladder, and then spammed Dark Bead at me in a corner until my endurance died. Along with the rest of me."

"And was that when you realised what you wanted to do with your life?"

The ganker looked down, and nodded glumly.

"Okay. We're going to show you a few pictures now. I want you to describe what you are seeing in the pictures. Are you ready?"

After he had nodded once more, Shiva seized a remote in his hand, and turned on a PowerPoint on the back wall. The audience were able to see the images on television screens all around the studio.

"Here's the first one. Tell us any feelings which come up."

The screen flickered, and there was a zoomed image of a small, metal ring, engraved with the insignia of a wasp-like insect. The ganker froze to the spot as he heard the scrutiny of audience members kick off once more.

"Well. What is it?" Shiva asked patiently.

The ganker swallowed hard. His throat was so dry, he felt like he'd swallowed a stone. "A Hornet Ring."

"That's a confession!" Alvina screeched from her seat upon Artorias' lap.

"No it isn't!" the ganker insisted. "I always use the Wolf Ring and the FaP ring."

"That's a pretty standard PvP setup," Kirk nodded to Leeroy, who was shaking his head and muttering.

"Right," Leeroy countered. "A Fast Roll, Poise-backstabbing setup. What a casul."

"Now, the next one," Shiva said.

The screen changed, and now the ring was replaced by an image of a scroll. On the scroll was a large, white blast flying outward. Everyone in the room recognised it. A few muttered their approval; most, however spat on the floor.

"Wrath of the Gods," the ganker replied with his eyes squeezed shut. No mask could hide the sweat that was running down his face now.

"I see you are familiar with this miracle. What is your faith stat?"

"32."

"So you are able to use it then."

"Yes." Little more than a squeak.

"Interesting. But do you?"

"Just as insurance!" the ganker squealed. "In case of a hacker."

"I'd like to draw your attention to the number count in the top right corner. Can you read it for me?"

The ganker was feeling ill. "No."

"It says 6, Mr. 720NoScopeOwnYourAssMMII. 6."

"That means New Game Plus, bitches," a burly man in full giants and a Fathers mask said, his arms wide in disapproval.

"Moving on to the next one now," Shiva said. "Do you recognise this man?"

On the screen there was a red phantom carrying a Falchion in two hands. The weapon was coated in a thick, bluish glisten. A Grass Crest shield hung loosely on his back.

The change in the ganker was immediate. He began to grip the arms of his chair so tightly he thought they would burst. Of course he recognised him. It was the most feared GankSpanker in Lordran.

"It's Oroboro," Shiva answered for him, tired of waiting. "On the 22nd of February, a message was received in his mailbox, sent by you. We're going to show it to you now. I'm going to read it, and then give you some time to defend yourself. Agreed?"

The ganker did not agree, but he had no choice.

"Y dnt U git gud, fagit," Shiva began, his reading glasses now perched upon his nose. "U jst use two-handed R1 spam buff. I can beat ur ass any day. Stop hacking. Go shit urself nd die."

Any sympathy held for the ganker over his Dark Bead experience was now long forgotten. Several Royal Scarecrows in the audience gripped their Plows tighter.

"It goes on," Shiva sighs. "Fagit cnt mofo suk my CENSORED. Fackn sht mate. Y don't u CENSORED my CENSORED. 1v1 in real life, fagit... I'm sorry, I can't read any more, or else we'll be cut off. What do you say?"

The ganker had lost all sense in his body. "I didn't send that..."

Shiva raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"It must have been 720NoScopeOwnYourAssMMI..."

Shiva shuffled his papers. 'Yes, of course... Anyway. We have one more picture. Are you ready? This one is quite disturbing, so be aware."

The screen changed, and there stood the ganker, in full battle armour. He wore the Havel's Torso and Gauntlets, the Hollow Warrior Skirt and the Mask of the Mother. In his hands he held a Great Club, alight with yellow sparks which could only have been Sunlight Blade. His left hand was pointed at the ground, where a blue phantom was disintegrating, having received a mortal blow.

A gasp chorused around the room, followed by one of the most vicious uproars in the show's history. Halberds were snapped over knees, Homing Crystal Soulmasses were cast, and Dragonslayer Spears were forged. The ganker leapt up and cried "This is slander!"

Shiva shook his head. "This image comes from a reliable source. It is you. Care to explain the Hornet Ring symbol in the top left?"

The ganker tried to get up and leave, but a Silver Knight bouncer came over and kicked him back into his seat.

"We're going to open the floor to questions now," Shiva said, quietly excited for his favourite part of the show. "Firstly, you sir! You in the dashing hat!"

Pharis blushed at the compliment. "Yeah, I was wondering why gankers always kill me first when they set up shop in the Forest. I mean... why? I'm just an archer!"

The ganker Shrugged. "You don't respawn."

"Racism!" Solaire shouted, seizing a Lightning Spear in his left hand.

"Next question. Anyone?" Shiva pointed to a man who was waiting patiently with his hand up straight.

"Yeah, I was wondering what you thought of the changes in Dark Souls II. You know, temporary summons and all that..."

"Is that a _sensible question_?" Shiva asked inquisitively.

"I suppose so..."

"THEN FUCK THAT SHIT!" The Eastern Warrior proclaimed, his Murakomo unsheathed and hungry for blood. "Anyone else? Oh, yes, you there with the teeth."

The Mimic crossed his elongated arms defensively. "They're fingers, actually, but whatevs. What's your deal with Lloyds Talismans? You know, how you shit yourself and roll around like a pansy Bonewheel Skeleton whenever one comes your way."

The Ganker eyed up the talking treasure chest with hatred. "I could ask you the same question, Sleepyhead."

The Mimic leapt to his feet. "Hold me back! HOLD ME BACK!" No 'one bothered, so he simply sighed and retracted his limbs back inside his mouth, cursing and muttering.

Shiva looked at the clock on the wall and snapped into action. "Sorry everyone, but it seems were almost out of time. It's a bit convoluted around here, so we need to set up for _Cooking with Smough_ a couple of hours ahead of schedule. But first, how about we spin the wheel?"

The audience cheered and jeered in equal measures. The Ganker looked alarmed. "What do you mean?"

"We are going to spin the Wheel of Fortune to decide your fate."

"Wait, this wasn't in the-"

"HERE WE GO FOLKS!"

The brightly-coloured wheel was set in motion, and every eye in the room revolved asymmetrically to follow its dizzying trajectory. With five seconds to go, the Ganker was destined to an Iron Flesh Manus fight. At three seconds, his future lay in the Titanite pit in Sen's Fortress. At last, the wheel stopped, and so did the Gankers heart.

"It's Bed of Chaos Calamity Ring everybody!"

The fateful decision had been made, and the audience were horridly gleeful by the gruesome outcome. Ornstein had started a chant of "Git gud!", which was now echoing all around the room.

"Git gud!"

"Git gud!"

"Git gud, you fckin faggit!" The Demon Firesage was, predictably, the most heated of the lot.

Shiva stood up from his chair with his microphone in-hand, and began chanting the end-show announcements. "And that's all for today, folks. Tune in tomorrow at the usual time, where we will be interviewing Kalameet on the loss of his wife, and his tail."

There was a hissing sound as the hydraulics below the gankers feet began to grind and splutter into life. The black and orange ring had been fused onto his finger, and now a red cloud hovered above his head; the symbol of his punishment. He made one last panicked attempt to stand up, but realised that he had been TWOP'd, and could barely make it out of the seat before the ground disappeared. The Bed of Chaos Boss theme began to play all around the studio. Several Dung Pies followed the gankers descent into the writhing mass of tentacles that awaited below, most of them thrown by Shiva himself, who was taking great joy in the activity.

"See you all next time. This Shiva with his SWAG Cleaver, signing off!"

The final, spine-wrenching cries of the ganker as his soul was mercilessly crushed were muffled by the cheery jingle of the advertisements that had begun to play.

_"Inquisition Time is sponsored by Gough's Greeting Carvings. A soulless emotion for every occasion!"_


	2. Trial of a Hacker

**You asked ****for moar, so here it is...**

**Now stop bitching scrubs.**

**fucking credit goes to ParagonEmil for the concept of this chapter**

* * *

**Trial of a Hacker**

_- The honourable judge Lautrec is now present; court is now in session -_

Lautrec felt nervous as he saw the cage wheeled up to the front of the courtroom. He had never seen a live one. As far as he was concerned, they were myths created by the online community to keep Great Club users off the internet. But now... he was not only going to see one, but he was going to sentence it too. If it weren't for the numerous Silver Knight bouncers in the room, he would have felt unbearably nervous.

The studio audience were tapping their feet impatiently when suddenly the familiar jingle of 'Judge Rude' played throughout the room, and Lautrec leapt to his feet, his jolly and friendly persona activated in force.

"Welcome, welcome!" He cried. "How are everyone's fire keepers doing today?"

From somewhere in the room there was the sound of a Estus Flask being smashed, so Lautrec cleared his throat awkwardly and pressed on. "You all know the drill. We will be presiding over a real court case, and** you**, the audience, will be giving the verdict. Will the defence committee please take their places in the podium?"

Two Darkmoon Blades, one with his arm in a sling, moved towards the centre. As they neared their desk, they were stopped and frisked by a silver knight. After a few moments of fumbling, the knight retreated, satisfied that they were not carrying Karmic Justice on their person. When they were seated, Lautrec continued. "And will the accused please take their place?"

This was the part which Lautrec had been afraid of. Slowly, the bars were brought down, and a terrifying abomination walked from the cage. The most striking feature of the figure was the size of its head. A Channeller's Helm of epic proportions stood aloft atop its head; Lautrec wondered how the figure had even been able to stand inside the narrow cage. The creature also completely lacked legs. And yet, somehow it was able to literally **strut **up to the podium. There, it stood with a striking confidence, and general indifference, to its surroundings.

Lautrec had to look away from the figure before he was able to think properly again. "Can you please confirm your name for the court?"

**"ALL YOUR BASE ARE BELONG TO US"**

"Excuse me?" Lautrec asked.

"Naw, I'm just kidding," the hacker cried in a voice reminiscent of an annoying American TV host. "I got yawl good din't I? Names DksMegaMule, don't wear it out, ladies!" His voice sounded deeper from the echo in his helmet.

"Indeed." Lautrec's thought patterns had been utterly disrupted by the outburst. "You stand accused of performing illicit activities in the Dark Souls community. How do you plead?"

"The Dark Souls community?" The hacker squawked. "How can you defend that circus of backstabbing, Dark Bead-spamming fagits?"

"You don't get to say fagit!" Lautrec shouted, before settling down. "So, how do you plead?"

"Why, I'm innocent as a boy, your honour."

"Very well. We'll now have an opening statement from the prosecuting party."

The Darkmoon Blade with the sling took his position parallel with the hacker, and began recounting his tragic story. "It was a couple of a months ago. Me and two friends were invading Dark Anor Londo. You know, looking for noobs."

"As you do," Shiva the East said from his seat in the jury box.

"Then, we invade that man over there!" The Darkmoon pointed at the hacker, whose expression was invisible beneath his oversized headgear.

"And what did this casul do?" Lautrec enquired.

The Darkmoon wiped away a stray tear with his good hand before continuing. "Well, I noticed something was wrong when he didn't take any damage from my bow. I put it down to lag at first. It was nothing of the sort."

"Go on."

"My first friend charged him, despite our protestations. That was the last I ever saw if him. The hacker pulled out a spear, struck my friend once, and he disappeared into thin air." The Darkmoon sniffed. "They recovered his body from the New Londo Ruins."

The jury exploded in gasps. The Capra Demon had to grasp his dogs' leads hard to suppress their struggle to tear the hacker's throat out.

Lautrec had to strike his gavel thrice to restore order. 'I'm sorry. I know this is hard. What happened next?"

"Well, me and my other friend tried to use our Black Separation Crystals..."

"It's okay. No 'one is judging you."

"But then, the hacker caught my friend with a Dragon Headstone fire blast. An infinite one."

"Poor fucker," Artorias the Abysswalker muttered.

"He lowered all of his stats to 10..."

Lautrec raised an eyebrow. "Even Resistance?"

The Darkmoon nodded glumly. Lautrec turned to the hacker with a look of disparity. "What kind of a monster are you?"

The Darkmoon reached into his evidence bag and pulled out a small baby; covered in blood and with its umbilical cord still connected, it was practically new-born. "This is all that's left of him."

The jury took deep breaths, each scribbling on their evidence sheets. Gravelord Nito stood up, and strode out of the courtroom, muttering "Jesus Christ, how horrible."

All this while, the hacker had stood utterly still, his face expressionless, while the evidence was being given. Lautrec indicated to him that it was now time for his statement. The hacker stood up, and looked incredibly smug. "Ladies and gentlemen of the court. And Gwyndolin. I come before you today to make a statement not only about my state of guilt, but about the DkS community in general. It cannot have escaped your attention that things are at an all-time low lately."

"Yeah," Ornstein cried. "Because of you hacker c*nts!" Many members of the jury grumbled their agreement.

The hacker didn't even blink. "Yes, Great Club BS-fishers and Dark Bead TWOP-pers are in force in our beloved community like never before. If we examine these graphs here..." His hand gestured to a line graph on the wall charting indictment activity. "There is a spike in activity, right about here..." His finger highlighted August of 2012. "The release of the PC version of Dark Souls."

"We all said it was a bad idea," Ciaran complained. "From Software didn't listen to us."

"Day one: The first hackers purchase the game and develop the very first hack. Invincibility. Perhaps the most notorious of our craft. Soon enough, the PC version was clouded with its use. It broke down the structure of the game on the very first day. Now, it was an option to activate casul mode. Who could refuse in a game like this?"

"People with skill," Laurentius pointed out.

"Skill means nothing where hackers are concerned. Hacking is for one reason and one reason only: revenge. Whether its revenge against the community, or the AI, is irrelevant."

"Sounds like a confession to me," Lautrec said with a sigh. "Unfortunate. I was looking forward to actually giving evidence, rather than you giving it to us."

The hacker ignored him. "So, hacking started off as one thing, and evolved into another. Eventually, revenge wasn't enough. The first hackers wanted to punish the community that played better than them. So, the Black Crystal hack was born. Born of blood, and of anger, this hack proceeded to tear apart Lordran at its very base."

"Why are you recounting the exact nature of your crime?" Lautrec enquired.

"I'm trying to make you understand. More than anything, the hackers of today are more like the victims of their ancestors than anything else. Given no other viable alternatives, they felt no need to actually get good at the game. It's a hierarchy built on self-indulgence, and yes, I am a part of it, but am I truly to blame? Truly, truly to blame, for a generation of hacking?"

Lautrec looked thoughtful. Then - "Yes. Yes, you are. Can we have the evidence please?"

The hacker tried to 'Well, What is It', but two of the guards returned to restrain his hands during the giving of evidence. He squirmed in horror as the first object was brought forward for his attention. "Recognise this?" Lautrec asked politely, indicating a particularly-menacing Crystal Great-sword.

Of course he did, but he could hardly say so. "Nope."

"Oh really? Then why does it have your name on it, right here!"

The hacker squeezed his eyes shut to block out the gazes that were landing on him like missiles. "It does?"

"Yes. The inscription says _'Warning: Do not insert into own back. Best used with Hornet Ring. Non-washable. Return if found to DkSoulsMegaMule, fagits."_

"Okay," the hacker squealed. "You caught me. It's mine."

"Andre," Lautrec called. "Can you please examine this here Crystal Greatsword?"

"Pleez, no!" The hacker cried, to no avail.

The bearded, surly blacksmith hobbled over to the evidence counter, and examined the weapon carefully. "Good make, strong hilt. **Super-sexy _hinges_**!"

"Andre, please," Lautrec sighed. "Tell us about the damage output."

The blacksmith suddenly remembered that he was on public view and shook off his strange urges. "Uh, yes, it appears to be over nine-thousand!"

The audience gasped, and all eyes fell on Dohmnall of Zena, who was looking increasingly nervous. "Aye simwae, I make 'im legit, you hear?"

"No 'one is blaming you, Dohmnall," Lautrec assured the merchant. "This make is of far more nefarious design. Anyway, moving on to the next piece of evidence!"

An insidious scroll of parchment was laid to rest next to the sinister weapon. "Have anything to say about this one?"

"Not really," the hacker said. "It's Karmic Justice. Completely legit."

"Bitch, please," Lautrec said calmly. "We took the liberty of testing it out on some hollows standing outside asking for autographs. See for yourself."

A video was played on the back wall. In it, an unsuspecting caster held his talisman aloft, but instead of channelling energy into himself, the mystical energy was dispelled in all directions, knocking over every hollow in the vicinity to the sound of multiple Wilhelm screams. It was no Karmic Justice, that much was clear.

Oswald of Carim starting pounding his fist on the wall. "Why? Why! **Why!** Didn't you think of the children you bastard? Won't somebody _pleez_ think of the children?"

Sparkly the crow started to caw. "What's the matter, daddy?"

"Never you mind, snuggly. You go back to sleep now." Oswald continued to pout, throwing indictments in all conceivable directions.

"The community call it Ancient Pulse," Lautrec continued when he was certain he had quiet. "It's a modded spell. And you clearly use it."

A crate of Divine Blessings - specifically 99 bottles - was set down on the evidence shelf. "'Nuff said about these."

The hacker's game was up, and he knew it. "I can do some snitching! I know where _FunTimeIsOver_ is hiding out! I can show you!"

"Enough!" Lautrec yelled, going to town with his gavel. "You hackers are all the same. Filthy, despicable _scrubs!_ I want to hear the jury's verdict now. No conferring!"

The hacker didn't wait to hear the unanimous cry, instead quickly yanking the two guards that were holding him into each other, concussing and felling both instantaneously. Then, the hacker disappeared.

"Where did he go?" Lautrec asked furiously. "Someone find him now!"

"He's over there!" Gough shouted, notching an arrow. No sooner had he released the arrow did the hacker once again disappear, rematerializing at the opposite end of the room. In the panic, the Crystal Greatsword had been seized from the table.

"Fuck, he's activated a lagswitch!" Lautrec shrieked. "Everyone, disconnect your internets quickly!"

The hacker blurred around the room, his sword cleaving in and out of several victims, ending their lives brutally and quickly. Within the course of ten seconds, the courtroom floor was soaked in blood. The Darkmoon who had been testifying against the hacker was spasmodic, tripping over himself to reach the door. Before he could reach it, however, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and a warm breath in his ear. "Git gud," it whispered, before plunging its greatsword straight through his heart. The Darkmoon crumpled to the ground, screaming in agony as black crystals erupted from all over his body, sending him to his permanent sleep.

Lautrec quickly realised the truth. "There's only one person who can save us now."

Rushing past his dying comrades and nearly slipping up in their blood, he made his way to the panic room, and barricaded himself inside. Then, he browsed all of the emergency switches that were flashing on the wall.

Fire Escape. No. Bomb Drill. No. Tranquil Walk of Dark Bead Rehabilitation Centre. Nope.

Then, when all seemed lost, he saw it. A solitary button, simply engraved with a Father's mask. He pressed it.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then - **"FIRE THE BASS CANNON!"** exploded from every speaker in the room. A blaze of fire carpeted the path from the door, and seconds later, the wooden obstacle was blown from its hinges. The Legend had arrived.

Without even breaking a sweat, Giantdad grabbed the hacker by the head in mid-swing, twisting him so he looked the Face of No-Mercy right in the eyes.

**"Wt rings u gt, bicth?"** it asked, without really caring to hear the answer.

The hacker squirmed under the intense grip, swinging his Crystal Greatsword madly. **"You only live once, fagit,"** it continued, impaling the hacker with its Chaoshander +5. **"Unless you're a Legend."**

Then, the Legend falcon-punched the hacker, slicing his head from his shoulders in less than a second. Giantdad surveyed the scene, pleased with his work, and began to walk away.

Then, as if forgetting something, it turned back around, and strode up to one of the only still-functional cameras in the room, and held his arms out wide in a gesture that only it could pull off successfully. Finally, it whispered something so powerful, one would need an oscilloscope to appreciate it properly.

**"THE LEGEND NEVER DIES!"**


End file.
